


Only You

by lgbthozier



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dom/sub, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Just 'cause, Marriage Proposal, Other, Reader-Insert, Sobbing, Swords, but sexy swords, he just likes powerful women, implied sword kink???, reader is a knight, robb stark is a bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 10:03:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19104895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lgbthozier/pseuds/lgbthozier
Summary: You point your sword at Robb one time and suddenly he forgets how to act.this is based entirely off a silly tumblr post about pretty boys being turned on by swords and i have to admit it's the best inspiration i've ever had in my life





	Only You

**Author's Note:**

> for my socials: ameliapanics.carrd.co

“You want me to do what?” Lady Catelyn laughed quietly at your words, amused by the look of surprise on your face as you stood before her in the tent. “I want you to help my son into battle. He’s been smart for the most part, but also very lucky, and I’m afraid to see our luck run dry. I know you have trained long and hard for this, and I trust you will be safe out there. If you can just be sure my son comes back to me…” Catelyn trailed off for a moment as her eyes became misty. You gently put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her; you knew she couldn’t bear to lose anymore of her family. The woman cleared her throat and continued. “If you could do me a favor and keep my son safe, I would be grateful.” You bowed your head in respect. “Of course, my lady. It would be an honor.” She thanked you before you left her tent in search of the young wolf, wondering how he would react to his mother’s request. You guessed that, since Robb happened to be one of the most stubborn men you’ve ever known, he wouldn’t exactly be pleased with the situation. Stark men were awfully proud, and Robb was certainly no different.

 

Too bad for him. You had been itching for a good fight, and no one could stop you.

 

You trudged through the camp, clenching your teeth to fight back against the chattering they would make otherwise. The north is awfully cold, you’ve found, and even while fully dressed in your knight armor and large furs on your back, you couldn’t help but shiver every so often. Part of you wished you had stayed back home in Dorne, where you could lounge about in comfortable silks and blissful heat, but you could never find it in yourself to regret becoming a knight. You were able to travel the world, and eventually you were asked by Lord Eddard Stark himself to stay by his wife’s side, and you agreed. Even since his death, you have upheld your oath to him, loyal through it all.

 

But now, you must focus on Lady Catelyn’s order.

 

After some searching, you found Robb Stark speaking to one of his banner men. You waited a moment for the other man to leave before you addressed the King in the North. “Lord Stark, I wanted to tell you of your mother’s request.” Robb nodded, asking you to go on. “I’ve been asked to accompany you in battle, Your Grace. For your safety.” Robb narrowed his eyes at you.

 

“No, I don’t need your help. My men and I are capable enough of protecting ourselves.” You scoffed, knowing this was exactly how he would react. “I was not asking you if I might come along. Your mother told me to do this, and it is my duty to do as she asks.”

 

The king frowns, his disapproval evident as he looked you up and down. “I know how to fight,” he insisted, “and I know how to win.” His words edged on vicious; the wolf had issued a challenge. You stood taller, refusing to back down from your king.

 

“And you think I don’t?”

 

“I think you’re all bark and no bite, ser.”

 

In a flash, you whipped your arm out towards Robb, your sword drawn and grazing the stubble on his chin. “Tell me, Robb Stark,” you urged slowly, tilting his head up with the end of your blade, “what do you think of me now?”

 

The young wolf swallowed harshly, his Tully eyes darkening a shade out of fear and, to his surprise, arousal. He had no chance to speak as you pulled your sword away, slipping it back into the sheath at your side. “I’ll be seeing you in battle, _Your Grace._ ” With that last biting tone, you sauntered off as Robb remained glued to his spot.

 

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

 

For the next few nights since that encounter, Robb Stark could not sleep, nor could he seem to function throughout the day without his thoughts drifting back to your commanding voice and the way you looked pointing your sword at him. It was an odd thing for him to focus on, yet no matter how he tried to distract himself, the image of you staring him down so powerfully drifted back to the surface of his mind. The king growled in frustration as he threw the furs aside and stood up from his bed. A walk, he decided, might just clear his head.

 

Robb slipped his cloak over his shoulders and stepped into the chilled night air. He headed for a nestle of woods alongside the camp and searched for a clearing to sit and think. Dead leaves and a thin layer of snow crushed under his boots as he delved further into the trees, eventually stopping when an open space was discovered among the dark forest. Sighing, he noticed a fallen tree and sat on it before he began rubbing his temples. Just at that moment, he heard leaves crunching and noticed you walking out from behind the trees. You were not wearing your armor, but your sword was still hanging against your hip. Robb tried not to focus on the sword again, but that image of you seemed clearer in his mind now that you were standing in front of him.

 

You noticed Robb and headed towards where he sat, giving him a generous, “Hello, my king.” He gave you a small smile before gesturing for you to sit down. If you couldn’t get out of his head, what was the harm in letting you stay?

 

Robb looked down at his feet before he spoke. “I must apologize for what I said before, my knight. I know you are only doing what is asked of you. Your generosity is admirable, and I should appreciate your willingness to aid me so.” A vague look of surprise overtook your face to mask the thrill of how he referred to you— _my knight_ —and you stared in amused awe at the king. “Am I hearing you correctly? Did the King in the North just give me an apology?” He looked up with a slightly annoyed expression, although he did not hide the smile on his face when he told you not to push it. You laughed at him again as he joined in, admiring the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. You moved your gaze to the moon hanging sleepily above you before Robb could catch you staring.

 

Clearing your throat, you decided to ask, “May I inquire as to what you’re doing out here so late?” Robb suddenly became bashful as he scratched the stubble along his jaw; a nervous tick you had noticed years ago. He seemed to consider his words for a moment until he settled on an answer. “If I’m being honest, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

 

Your heart stopped pumping as his response burned into your mind. Baffled, you stood and cried, “Excuse you?” and watched Robb tense up completely. Despite the obvious discomfort, he stood as well and continued on. “I was thinking about what you did with your sword a few days ago. It was—oh, how do I say this?—it made me feel… taken with you, I suppose. More so than I had ever before.” He sounded unsure of his words, and something about this show of vulnerability made you want to pull him in close and watch him melt into you. Your mouth was hanging open and you blinked, a little embarrassed by your reaction, but faintly relieved. Slowly, as if to test the waters, you reached out to hold his hand in yours. “I know the feeling, Your Grace,” you informed him with an earnest look. “It’s Robb,” he declared briskly. “No formalities.” You nodded as you watched the blue of his eyes make waves across your face for a moment.

 

“Well, _Robb_? Are you going to just stand there?” Your words spurred the king forward as he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you fiercely. You gripped the front of his shirt until your knuckles turned white as your mouths moved against each other. Something in the way he held you close and seemed so desperate to touch you was sultry and endearing all at once. It made you wonder how often he had thought of you in this way before—How many sleepless nights had he spent wondering how you felt? How many times had he imagined what you might look like under your armor or in his bed? Did it amount to the number of times you had dreamt of him?—and the thought alone excited you.

 

Without pulling away, you traced your hands up to Robb’s shoulders until his fur coat slipped from his shoulders and fell to the ground. The young wolf didn’t seemed bothered by the cold, not even when you began to tug off his shirt. You pushed Robb down to his knees, staring down at him. He felt as exposed as he had before, when you drew your sword to him; there was a rush deep in his stomach, and he looked up at you with longing eyes.

 

Robb knelt before you, his hands ghosting over the sword at your waist as you spoke. “You say you kneel for no one, do you not? Yet here you are, kneeling for me.”

 

“You’re the only one I kneel for,” he said. “Only you.”

 

Robb tugged your trousers down while you lifted your shirt up. You shivered, the frigid air nipping at your skin. He noticed and pulled you down with him and, almost instantaneously, his body heat was warming you up. You helped Robb take off his own trousers before you pressed him down to lay back on his furs while you straddled him. His hands flitted over your skin, caressing the fading scars you earned from years of training and fighting. Somehow, you weren’t embarrassed to be seen by him in this way; not even when his hands traveled lower and sent a flurry of pleasure up your body with the curl of his fingers, nor did he seem entirely abashed when you snaked your hands around his flesh and watched him come undone.

 

You lowered yourself down onto him and exhaled languidly as he groaned out in satisfaction. His chest heaved and he gripped your thighs as if they were created by the gods themselves. You and Robb moved together in sync, carnal needs being met with every tantalizing brush of skin and sharpened breath. The pressure of your heat molding around him caused him to whimper and twitch inside you, which in turn brought you down on him quicker until you drew out a wanton sound. He, too, had reached his high, and he fervidly called out your name and you finally rose up off of him and opted to lay by his side.

 

As his arms came to draw you in nearer, you splayed your own arm across his body and attempted to steady your breathing. Robb placed a hand in your hair and pet it lovingly until you lifted your head to face him. “How long…?” You trailed off, but the king knew what you were implying. While combing his fingers through your hair, he murmured, “Years.” Your eyes nearly welled up with tears. You kissed him, tenderly this time, memorizing the feeling. A moment later, you both had drifted off to sleep, and the moon seemed to shine a bit brighter.

 

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

 

Some days later, you found yourself with Robb yet again. This time, you were in his tent, wearing one of his shirts, warm against his natural excess of heat; a northern thing, you supposed. His head was resting upon your chest while you swept the curls back from his forehead and kissed him there. You fiddled with his hand in yours, stopping only when he pulled it back and kissed your palm. “What’s wrong?” he wondered. Worry clouded in your eyes; you headed into battle the following day, and you feared for him more than yourself or anyone else. What would you do if Catelyn was correct, and his luck ran out? What if you were foolish and unable to protect him?

 

You confessed your anxieties and he listened intently, rubbing gentle circles into your exposed skin. When you finished explaining, he said to you, “I promise you, if anything happens to me, I know you will be there for me right when I need you. I trust you. I believe in you. You’re the strongest person I know, mind and body alike. You’re my knight in shining armor, stale as it may sound.” You laughed a bit at that and he smiled sweetly up at you, when suddenly you were interrupted by the flap of his tent opening.

 

There stood Lady Catelyn, who restrained her mirth at the pair shuffling around under the furs. Robb covered you up and gave his mother a pointed glare that she dismissed as she came closer. “I see you’re both faring well. I must admit, I’m not surprised by this, but I had hoped you would save this for after the battle.” You sat up straighter, imploring the Stark mother to explain what she meant by that. “You think I haven’t noticed that you two fancy each other? Robb was just a boy when I caught him gawking at you in the courtyard.” Robb grumbled something under his breath while you laughed with Catelyn; leave it to his mother to humble him so much.

 

When Lady Stark has ceased her teasing, her face became serious. “I came here to warn you both of something,” she announced. Robb sat up straight and pressed her to continue. Catelyn began pacing around the tent, examining the maps and battle plans laid out on the table as she spoke. “I urge you two to be careful tomorrow. I can’t help but worry that either of you may be hurt, and may the gods forbid you get killed. You are the king now, Robb, and our dear knight has sworn to protect you and I, so keep well on that promise. But I beg you, keep each other safe before anything else.” You each nodded, promising not to let her down, and then Lady Catelyn kissed her son’s cheek and left. He reached out to hold your hand again and you squeezed it reassuringly before rising out of bed and stretching. “How about we go over battle plans again, my king?”

 

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

 

Screams and metal clashing together reverberated through your skull, rocking your brain into a frenzy as you rode into battle with your sword raised. You lifted the blade, swung it down, and watched a streak of blood fly across the ground in one fluid motion. Again and again you brought down the sword, not entirely worried if you didn’t get a clean kill; you had laced the edge with poison just before you left.

 

Every other moment you searched for your king, the mind numbing fear of losing him at the center of your thoughts. “I must keep him alive,” you muttered aloud to yourself. “I must bring him back safe.” It was in that second of distraction that you were thrown from your horse as it whinnied and ran off. Cursing, you rolled onto your back just in time to avoid a fatal stabbing. You growled and swung your sword against an armored man’s leg as he cried out and aimed for your head. You dodged and lunged at the man, stabbed him in the neck, and ran off. During your brawl, you had lost sight of Robb. Right, left, right left—there were only fallen men and screaming people and a torrent of blood and misery. You spun in a circle, searching for any sign of him, but you did not see the boy with the curly red hair and pretty blue eyes among the dying men. You lost your king, you weren’t going to save him, you were going to return to camp and tell Catelyn that you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t save her son, you didn’t deserve to be a knight, she might as well have you killed as her husband was—

 

Your heart rate began to pick up when you heard a voice yell out your name on your left. The blood was rushing through your veins, fueling your movements. You tore through bodies as you caught sight of him from between a mess of armor and death. “Robb!” you shouted, chasing towards his direction. “Robb, hang on!” Your lungs began to burn but you ran faster, dread icing your blood when you saw a larger man push Robb to the ground. You growled and yelled out a battle cry as you tackled the man before he could drive his sword through your king’s head. The man shoved you away, but you threw yourself forward and took him by the neck as you pressed against his windpipe with all your weight. He gasped and scratched at your arms, his face becoming red as his eyes watered. He brought his knee up and kicked you to the side as he gasped for air and grasped out for his sword. You jumped to your feet and kicked it away, reaching for your own weapon as you twirled it in your hand before driving it through his eye and out the back of his skull. It pulled out with a sickening sound to match as the man dropped dead.

 

You heaved in a breath of air and knelt by Robb’s side where he was still in the grass. You dragged him off behind a boulder so you could look over him. “You’re covered in blood,” you croaked, your voice scratchy from yelling. Robb chuckled. “So are you.” You held his head in your hands and looked down at him in worry. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” He didn’t say anything at first, just stared back at you with an easy smile on his face, then placed his hand over yours. “That thing you did with your sword was amazing,” he said, a starry look in his eyes. You scoffed and asked again if he was fine, but he only brought you closer to press his forehead against yours. “Now isn’t the time, Robb,” you groaned, a little annoyed by his nonchalance. “I love you,” he declared, and you sighed. “Robb I swear—”

 

“You have to say it back.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

“Say it back, my knight.”

 

“We are in the middle of a _battle_ —“

 

“It’ll only take a second. Say it.”

 

You glared at him and mumbled incoherently. “What was that? Speak up,” Robb insisted. “I said _I love you, too_ , you dick.” He kissed you on the nose and smiled up at your frowning face. “Thank you. I think I feel quite alright.”

 

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

 

In the end, the battle was won, and after a long and bloodied day of fighting, everyone was encouraged to take a break. Most men planned to drink away the night, but you were tired and sore and desperately in need of a good cleansing. You headed straight for your tent before you drew a bath, dipping your hand in the hot water to test it out before you began shedding your armor. It was only a minute later that Robb entered, still wearing his battered armor. He noticed the full tub, asking if he could join you. “Go ahead,” you told him, helping to remove the layers he wore.

 

When you both were left naked, Robb stepped into the water as you followed, sinking in as the hot bath melted away the tension in your muscles. Robb massaged your shoulders and back until you shut your eyes and melted against him. He kept his arms around your waist and leaned against the edge of the tub, his chin resting in the space between your neck and your shoulder. You sighed deeply and reached out to take his hand in yours.

 

“I almost lost you.” Your words were small and weak, a stark contrast from the usually dominating aura you held. Robb said nothing, and for a long, silent moment, you thought he had not heard you. Suddenly, your body began to shake as you sobbed, heavy waves of salty tears flooding your vision. The arms wrapped around you became tight as you covered your face and reeled over the painful possibilities of what you could have lost—a king, a friend, a mentor, a lover—so much that it hurt your heart and made your insides twist in a wretched agony. The anxiety was overwhelming and drumming in your ears so loudly that it made you sick, so you sobbed harder, until the warmth of the body enveloping you eased you back to tranquility. Your breathing was ragged and that sore feeling now fizzled in the acid of your stomach; despite the hurt, you felt good. You felt a weight slip from your shoulders, and with it fled the guise of strength you took cover behind. It felt good to hold, but to be held was a luxury; to be held was a kiss from the moon and all her stars on a pile of furs and in the warm water of a bath. “You’re strong,” Robb whispered as he kissed along the curve of your shoulders. “Strong people have to rest some time, love.” Your eyes filled with tears again, although now they were light with relief. Oh, how you had longed for someone to tell you that, to allow you to be vulnerable without judgement. You tested your words before you spoke.

 

“I’ve spent so long holding on to this, this invisible rope, Robb. I have held on for so long and I could never bring myself to let it go or I would lose it completely, but it just—it just snapped. It's so good to let go, but how do I get that back? What if I can never be strong again? What if I can’t be strong for you? Where do we go from here?”

 

The Stark boy turned you to face him and looked deep into the pits of your eyes. “We will mend what has been broken. We will hold that rope together, and we will endure that ache together. We will be strong for each other. All you have to do is let me be the one to share your tragedies and triumphs. Let me be the only one to stay by your side, if you’ll have me.” He wondered if you would understand all that he was asking of you, but the question dissolved in his mind when you gave him a serious look and nodded your head. You kissed him in earnest and he sighed when you parted. “I’ll have to call you my queen,” he joked. You huffed out a laugh and mused aloud, “A knight becoming a queen. Are you sure there aren’t any better contenders?” Robb was quick to respond.

 

“It was only ever going to be you. Only you.”


End file.
